No demi-gods in England; everyone has to pass through the Caudine Forks of criticism.
A young country curate, finding that his tradesmen's bills were taking larger proportions than his modest income could stand, resolved one day to thunder from the pulpit against the thirst for riches.
He prepared his thunderbolts.
Never did Horace or Bourdaloue utter such anathemas against the vices of the day.
"My dear brethren," he cried, "is it possible that you can thus place the love of filthy lucre above the love of virtue?"
And, after a few generalities, he came straight to the point; he accused the tradesmen of making too large profits, and of caring more for the things of this world than for the things of the next.
A few days later, it being the 5th of November, the curate was burnt in effigy.
His parishioners having rendered his life not worth living in the pretty little town of X——, the young reverend gentleman lost no time in packing up his traps and quitting the neighborhood, with the firm resolution never to preach any more sermons ad hominem.
The Anglican, or State Church of England is a Tory institution, that is to say, an eminently Conservative one. It is also a great school of discipline for the people. As an Englishman of much good sense said to me one day, the clergyman of a small town advantageously replaces half a dozen policemen.
The Anglican Church is the Church of English good society.